Come and Take Them-eARC by Tom Kratman Page A

was also reflective enough that the light spilling in from the window was more than sufficient.
    “Fernandez’s boys and girls swept the place two days ago,” Parilla said, as Carrera took a leather seat. “We can speak freely here.” Then the president went to a liquor cabinet and pulled out two glasses. These he filled with ice, then took a bottle of ancient rum and poured several generous fingers in each.
    Carrera stood up, took one glass and set it down, then took the other, which he placed on Parilla’s desk. Only then did he retrieve his own glass and resume his seat.
    “I have a sense of the Senate,” Parilla said.
    I like the sound of that even less.
    “There is a sufficient consensus that we should avert a war with the Tauran Union if at all possible. If I asked for a declaration of war today, I would not get it.”
    “Even though they’re sitting in the Transitway like a rope around the country’s neck?” Carrera asked.
    “Even though,” the president confirmed.
    “They don’t have faith I can win it?”
    Parilla shook his head. “No, they believe you can win it. They don’t believe you or anyone alive or anyone who has ever lived could win it without getting ten or fifteen percent of the country killed.”
    And I could not gainsay that with a straight face or clear conscience. It just might cost that much.
    “So what do they want…what do you want, Mr. President?”
    Parilla frowned. “Don’t you get formal with me, Patricio. I’m still Raul. And don’t get your back up over the Senate, either. They’re your creation, not your creature, and you set them up that way.
    “As to what I want…I want us to back off from provoking the Taurans. I want us to…let’s say…give peace a chance.”
    “I think that’s a mistake,” said Carrera.
    Parilla shook his head. “It’s not a mistake; it’s a gamble. It’s gambling a somewhat less advantageous position should war come against the chance of avoiding war altogether. Are you trying to tell me that that is always a losing bet?”
    “I’m…no.” Patricio likewise shook his head. “No; Machiavellianism notwithstanding, human history is replete with instances where a little restraint might have avoided endless grief. It’s just that in this case, in our circumstances, I don’t think that’s going to happen.
    “You knew the new high admiral of the Peace Fleet visited the Taurans, here, recently?” Carrera asked.
    “Yes,” the president agreed, “my aide de camp got the briefing from Fernandez and briefed me.”
    “You don’t agree it’s a bad sign?”
    “Could be,” Parilla conceded. “Equally, it could be a good sign. We just don’t know.”
    “I can contact her, you know,” Carrera said. “I haven’t because I don’t trust the bitch as far as I could throw one of her starships.”
    “Yes, I knew. Maybe you should.”
    Carrera shrugged his shoulders. He really didn’t know if he should or shouldn’t.
    “So what say you?” the president asked.
    “I don’t want to stop preparations for a war I consider inevitable.”
    “Can you break those preparations into nice to have and necessary?” asked Parilla. “Into those that you can keep hidden from those you can’t? From the innocuous to the provocational?”
    “Maybe, maybe, and maybe.”
    “Try. Try. Try.”
    Carrera smirked at the retort. “And when they sense weakness and start to provoke us?”
    “Restraint. Restraint. Restraint.”
    It was Parilla’s turn then to smirk at Carrera’s scowl. “You’ve recently put your son into one of the military schools, haven’t you?”
    “It’s common knowledge,” Carrera answered.
    “When you’re weighing this gamble I want you to take, don’t forget to weigh the life of your son if we go to war with someone a hundred times bigger and a thousand times wealthier.”
    “I suppose there is that… Okay, Raul, I’ll try; I’ll lay off harassing the Taurans. But I’m still going to keep preparing in